Wisconsin Lumberjack Songs (4Th – 12Th Grades)
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th th Wisconsin Lumberjack Songs (4 – 12 Grades) Four songs representing Wisconsin lumberjack life and work were chosen for this unit, “Wisconsin Lumberjacks: Their Songs, Work, and History.” The first two, “Lost Jimmy Whalen,” and “Driving Saw Logs On the Plover,” speak to the physical and mental demands of logging work and the hazards of the occupation. “Little Brown Bulls,” and “Shantyman’s Life” offer an insider’s view into the life and work of a lumberjack – the tools of trade, the different jobs and responsibilities, life in the shanties, and contests between lumber camps and crews. All songs and instrumental selections are resourced from the Local Centers, Global Sounds UW Digital Collections at https://digital.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/LocalCenters. Follow “Audio file” for the audio recording of each individual song. As Jim Leary writes, “Wisconsin’s vast north woods, the ‘pinery,’ was harvested mostly between the 1860s and the first decade of the twentieth century. The shanty boys or lumberjacks worked in the woods from late fall through early spring, occupying camps and moving felled timber when the ground was frozen… among them were musicians and singers aplenty.” According to folksong collector Franz Rickaby, ‘…in the logging camp the hegemony in song belonged to the Irish.’ There is, therefore an unmistakable imprint of the Irish street song on the lumberjack tunes” (Leary, 2015, pp. 270 - 271). Unit Contents: - 4 Lumberjack songs, pp. 2 – 6 - Vocabulary Words, pp. 7 - 8 - Crossword Puzzles, p. 9 - 11 - Suggested Questions for Discussion and/or Writing Prompts, Venn Diagrams p. 12 - Venn Diagrams (for comparing two and three songs), pp. 13 - 14 - Suggested Arts Integration Lessons (Acrostic Poetry, Illustrating/Printmaking, “Let’s Dance”), pp. 15 - 16 - Additional Resources, online websites, books, p. 17 Wind-powered lumberjack, built by Eino Parkinen Photo: Matthew Gallmann, July 16, 1979 1 Songs 1. Lost Jimmie Whalen, Sung by Robert Walker. Recorded by Sidney Robertson, Crandon, Wisconsin, July 1937 Audio File: https://digital.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/QYAIJKXO4UMCN86 As slowly and sadly I strayed by the river, A-watching the sunbeams as evening drew nigh, “Jimmy,” said she, “won’t you stay on earth with me? As onward I rambled I spied a fair damsel, Do not leave me here for to weep and to rave. She was weeping and wailing with many a sigh. But if you cannot stay on this cold earth with me, Oh Jimmy, take me to your cold silent grave.” Sighing for one who is now lying lonely, Sighing for one whom no mortal can save, “Darling to me you are asking a favor For the dark rolling waters roll sadly around him, That no earthly mortal could grant unto thee. As onward it rolls o’er young Jimmy’s grave. For death is the dagger that holds us asunder, And wide is the gulf, love, between you and me. “Jimmy,” said she, “won’t you come to my arrums, And give me sweet kisses as oft-times you’ve done? “One fond embrace, love, and then I must leave you, You promised you’d meet me this evening, my darling, One loving kiss, pet, and then we must part.” O come dearest Jimmy, love, come from your grave.” And cold were the arms he encircled around her, While cold was the bosom she pressed to her heart. Slowly there rose from the depths of the river A vision of beauty far brighter than sun, Then straightway he vanished before her, While red robes of crimson encircled around him, Straight to the clouds he appeared for to go, Unto this fair maiden to speak he’d begun. Leaving his loved one distracted and lonely, Weeping and wailing with anguish and woe. “Why did you call me from the rellums of glory Back to this cold earth that I’ll soon have to leave, Throwing herself on the banks of the river, To clasp you once more in my fond loving arrums? A-weeping and wailing as though she would rave, To see you once more I have came from my grave.” Sighing, “My loved one, my lost Jimmy Whalen, [Spoken:] I will sigh ‘til I die by the side of your grave.” 2 2. Driving Saw Logs on the Plover, written by William Allen, 1873. Sung by Oscar Grogan. Instrumentalists: Ben Salving, and Robert Hood Bowers. Recorded: ca. 1928. Audio File: https://digital.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/MSLNHV6COZJZN8V There walked on Plover’s shady banks one evening last July A mother of a shanty boy and doleful was her cry Saying God be with you Johnny, although you’re far away Driving saw logs on the Plover and you’ll never get your pay. For Johnny I gave you schooling, I gave you a trade likewise You need not been a shanty boy had you taken my advice You need not gone from your dear home to the forest far away Sawing saw logs on the Plover and you’ll never get your pay. Oh Johnny you were your father’s hope, your mother’s only joy Why is it that you ramble so, my only darling boy What could induce you Johnny from your own dear home to stray Driving saw logs on the Plover, and you’ll never get your pay. Why didn’t you stay on the farm and feed the ducks and hens? And drive the sheep and pigs at night and put them in their pens? For better for you to help your dad to cut his corn and hay, Then to drive saw logs on the Plover and never get your pay. A log canoe came floating a down the quiet stream As peacefully it glided as some young lover’s dream A youth crept out upon the bank and thus to her did say Dear mother I have jumped the game and I haven’t got my pay. The boys call me a sucker and a son of a gun to boot. I said to myself “Oh Johnny, it is time for you to scoot.” I stole a canoe and started upon my weary way, And now I have got home again, and nary a cent to pay. Now all men take this advice if ‘ere you wish to roam, Be sure and kiss your mothers before you leave your home, You had better work upon the farm for half a dollar a day Then to drive saw logs on the Plover and you’ll never get your pay. 3 3. Little Brown Bulls - Sung by Warde Ford. Recorded by Sidney Robertson, Crandon, Wisconsin, July 30, 1937. Audio File: https://digital.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/GMK6FHWXYJSMK87 Not a man on the river had McCluskey to fear, With a whoop and a holler McCluskey came in view As he swung his gored stick o’er the big spotted steers, With the big spotted steers, the pets of the crew, Young, strong, quick, and handsome, girded eight foot Saying “Chew your cud well, boys, and keep your and three, mouths full, Said McCluskey, the Scotsman, “They’re the laddies for And today we will conquer those little brown me.” bulls.” Then up came Bull Gordon when the rollway was full, Then up came Bull Gordon with his pipe in his jaw, And shouted, “Wha, hush!” to the little brown bulls. And the little brown bulls with a cud in each jaw. Short-legged and shaggy, girded six foot and nine. And little did we think when they swung them around, “Too light,” said McCluskey, “to handle our pine.” Twas a hundred and forty he’d skid at sundown. Now it’s three to the thousand our contract did call. Now at sundown that evening our foreman did say, The skidding was good and the timber was tall. “Turn in, boys, turn in–you’ve enough for the day.” Said Sandy to Gordon, “To make the day full, All numbered and scaled, each man and his team, I’ll skid two-to-one of your little brown bulls.” And we thought that we knew which had knocked down “Ah no,” said Bull Gordon, “that you cannot do, the beam. Although your big steers are the pets of the crew. When supper was over, McCluskey did appear, I’ll tell you, my boy, you’ll have your hands full With a belt he had made for the big spotted steers. If you skid one more log than my little brown bulls.” And to make it he’d torn up his best mackinaw, As he was conducted according to the law. Now a day was appointed and soon it drew nigh, For twenty-five dollars their fortune to try. Then up jumped the scaler, said, “Hold on your while, All eager and anxious when the morning came round Your big spotted steers are behind by a mile. And the boss and the scaler [5] appeared on the ground. You’ve skidded a hundred and ten and no more, While Gordon has beat you by ten and a score.” How all the boys shouted, and McCluskey did swear As he pulled out in handfuls his long curly hair. Now fill up your glasses and fill them up full, And we’ll drink to the health of the little brown bulls. 4 4. Shantyman’s Life Sung by Emery DeNoyer, Rhinelander, Wisconsin, July 26, 1941. Recorded by Helene Stratman-Thomas and Robert F. Draves. Audio File: https://digital.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/JDEDROU5C53DK8T Come all you jolly fellows, come listen to my song; It’s all about the pinery boys, and how they get along.